A Factor in Being Catholic – The Murder Mystery Continues.


I started writing a murder mystery some time ago, we are almost at the end now.

I wish to apologise to readers. I expected this to be the last part, but I find that it is longer than I realised. That’s what comes of writing a story ‘on the hoof’ so to speak, rather than having it all planned out. I hope you will forgive me that there is a little more to come. I will endeavour to have it finished as soon as possible.

If you’d like to read this story from the beginning, click on this link:



A Factor in being Catholic

At Audrey’s request to see Lord Halifax, the butler took a deep breath. It seemed to say that he’d never heard such an audacious request before. She was trying to remember the butler’s name. She had after all, dined there on rare occasions. She had been very good friends with Claudia Halifax but her husband had always been an austere man who didn’t like company much. The name came back to her, it was Burroughs.

“He is at home, isn’t he Burroughs?” She asked, hoping that using his name might make him a little more helpful.

“Yes, he is Madam, if you would wait in the hall, I will enquire if he is receiving visitors.”

Continue reading A Factor in Being Catholic – The Murder Mystery Continues.

Manic Mondays 3 Way Challenge – A Journey through Ignorance.

This story was written in response to Laura M Baileys challenge. See Link:



The Word is JOURNEY

A Journey Through Ignorance

She was almost home. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel of trees that meant safety.

She had been on a long journey, to find out the truth of the world outside the protection of their sacred grove. The World had forsaken it’s principles, all the virtues of honour had been forgotten. Now people just vied for gold. They had lost themselves.

She was being pursued by some of those ultimate personifications of the degradation that the world had found itself in. Thieves, who without any desire to create anything for themselves just sought to take from more worthy individuals. They no longer followed the code of valour. Rather than see a vulnerable young woman in need of protection, they just saw a victim clothed in robes of fine spun cloth, with silver decorating her pale swan-like neck. She had, in her rectitude, chastised them for their wicked ways, this seemed to make them even more keen to follow her and take her belongings. She had managed to escape them but they were not far behind. Once she was home, they would never find her. They were not part of her world, her’s was a world of Magic and splendour long ago abandoned by the world of men. For all she appeared a helpless maid, she was actually one of the Fey, but having left her sacred homelands without the permission of her elders she was forbidden from drawing on the magic of her kind. She had only done so briefly in order to temporarily escape from the clutches of her pursuers. They were not very far behind now. She could hear their uncouth voices.

She paused at the start of the long tunnel of trees because another danger reared it’s ugly head. The shadows themselves were a danger, they could claim unwary souls. The shadows seemed to reach out to her, calling her name. Praying to the spirit behind her people she ran for all her life was worth, ran towards the light and home.

She felt hands try to grab her from out of the shadows, she heard the voices of her pursuers behind, but those voices diminished, the hands disappeared as the golden light consumed her. She was home and safe now.

The End


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 27/August/2018